


Run for Cover in the Temple of Love

by KiiKitsune



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Gen, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiiKitsune/pseuds/KiiKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the immediate aftermath of Three's ghostly disaster, Millicent goes back to Phosphorescence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run for Cover in the Temple of Love

Sometimes Millicent wondered if she had made the right decision in taking Thomas’ offer. 

There were disadvantages to being a woman in politics in the 1960s, of course, but that could have been solved by time. Vampiric politics, on the other hand, were unmoving. Just as frozen as the flesh of those participating. The only way to move up in the world was through action, and most of those actions carried heavy consequences. As stagnant as the politics were, she somehow never seemed to have enough time to do a proper cost-benefits analysis when she was forced to take those actions. 

She had time right then though.

Not much, granted, but some. She allowed herself the night to rest, going home for the first time in two nights to shower and change. The ill-fitting clothes she’d borrowed from Phoenix got tossed in her laundry hamper for the staff to deal with. As soon as the clothes were out of sight she put everything about the coterie out of mind. All she needed was one day to let her emotions simmer down behind the gate of logic and propriety, and then she could go back to managing the situation.

When evening fell again and she rose, she sat in front of her vanity and stared at herself while she took stock of all that had occurred. Three really seemed to be the magic number. 

Three nights to find the werewolf that brought them all together…

Three strange Malkavians she’d tried to bring under her wing…

Three, the Malkavian who’d brought hell down on them all…

Three lives she had ended…

Her hand was shaking and she put the eyeliner she’d been about to apply down. It would look worse badly applied than it would not being there at all. Besides, her plan for the night had nothing to do with appearances.

She dressed in a simple outfit, slipping the ring of keys from Phosphorescence into her pocket and leaving her phone on her kitchen counter. There would be no disturbances tonight. 

The drive was slower than she would have liked thanks to traffic, but she eventually pulled up to the bar, backing up so her trunk was as near to the entrance as possible. No one was lingering nearby. It appeared the bar’s frequent short-notice closures in the past week and a half had put a sour note on the good will of Phosphorescence’s usual patrons. Better to be cautious though. 

She unlocked the front door and slipped inside. Even from the back room the stench of blood and rotting viscera was unmistakeable. She exhaled sharply, squared her shoulders, and set about cleaning up. She double-bagged the gore and bodies, careful not to feel the contours of the smaller bag. She didn’t need a reminder of the small limbs and big, glassy eyes she knew were inside. Setting the bags aside, she doused everything in bleach and scrubbed. She scrubbed for hours, scouring every nook and cranny in that back room, then went and did the same to the mess in the front.

Millicent wished her mind could go blank and silent, allowing her to lose herself in the methodical task. Instead, she was consumed with questions.

How should she get rid of the corpses? Burn them outside the city? Put them in the river? Bring them down to Greg the alligator? 

What was happening to Three at the moment? Would it be enough for him to actually learn anything? Was it wise to allow him back into the group after what he’d done?

What had Henrik and Josef been talking about? When would whatever they were plotting come down on her head? How could that damnable Tremere be convinced to give her the address Joseph had wanted so badly? Was there anything else she could leverage in time?

What was Faye doing? The look on her face as Three had used her to make the illegal vampire was burned into Millicent’s mind. As were her fierce attempts at protecting the children. Perhaps this was a new avenue worth exploring.

Would Thomas find out about her involvement in this embarrassment? Would he care? More specifically, would he care about her potentially disgracing his name? There had been a lot of vampires at the Elysium last night. Their laughter still burned in her chest. 

Millicent paused as she went to pick up the first bag. She straightened up and looked towards the stairs. Phoenix. She hadn’t seen him since he had refused to even give her the tools to do what was necessary. He had failed to stop Three, both in getting to the house and in stealing Faye’s blood, and then washed his hands of it all as if he weren’t just as involved in it as anyone else in that car had been. 

The third stair creaked as she ascended, a familiar sound from decades past. 

Her hand ran over the broken door frame of Phoenix’s room, contemplating. Faye must have done it when she brought the children upstairs. Curling her fingers around the side of the door, she eased it open. The hinges squealed into the darkness, but Millicent was the only one to hear their warning cry. 

Phoenix was there, face down in crumpled bed sheets and perfectly still. He didn’t stir as she entered the room. He didn’t stir when she approached and laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t even stir when she turned him onto his back and settled herself on the edge of the bed.

She brushed the blond hair from his face and examined his fine-boned features. He was handsome, she supposed. Thin and elven. His sharp nose and cheekbones cut a striking image even with his pale eyelashes drawn down over his cheeks in slumber. 

He looked peaceful, hiding from the world in his haven. Perhaps this is what he always looked like when she wasn’t around to make him sneer and speak through gritted teeth. She tried to remember if he had ever looked this relaxed when they’d originally met. Certainly not when he’d made the deal, every muscle coiled tight with caution and distrust, but just after that. When her sweet ichor had first spilled past his trembling lips.

He had been so calm when he had been hers. 

She smoothed her thumb over the lines of fatigue permanently etched beneath his eyes and pressed her fingerprints into his skin like invisible brands. She hadn’t expected to see him so closely again. Vampiric society was small, especially in this town, so she hadn’t completely discounted running into him. But the idea of being in a coterie together had never even crossed her mind. 

The coterie itself was falling apart before it had even formed though. They had no reason to be together anymore and she’d failed to build enough trust to make anything of it. She had thought she’d gotten somewhere with Three, but she’d had it plainly demonstrated that whatever loyalty her efforts had garnered with him was worth about as much as the Malkavian’s wretched hat. The Tremere was unreasonably contrary in most matters. Griff was a good tool made useless by his tendency to run and be unavailable. Faye was strong willed, even with the new avenues of approach this mess had opened to her.

And then there was Phoenix. For all his anger and walls, he had never really known how to keep her out. Sloppy and careless in his rush to keep himself away from the world at large, he always forgot to fill in the little gaps in his defences. It was for the best, really. Millicent could fill in those gaps for him. 

She readjusted, rolling her legs up onto the bed to tuck herself in against Phoenix’s side. She flipped her hair over her shoulder so it fell behind her and out of the way, then returned her hand to Phoenix’s face. She traced the seam of his lips.

Maybe he did it subconsciously, some part of him knowing he would be so much better off with her guiding him through his shortcomings. Of all the vampires in the city, he knew her best. While the rest of them laughed, thinking her weak and stupid, he knew better. He could trust her to be smart and strong. Perhaps he wouldn’t admit to it, or phrase it so kindly, but he wouldn’t be so violently opposed to her if he didn’t believe it. 

Millicent opened his mouth gently then withdrew her hand. She brought her wrist to her own mouth, eyes fluttering at the stretch of fangs extending straight down into her own soft flesh. 

There was nothing like feeding, but this came close. Phoenix didn’t wake even as he started to suckle at the wound, and the heady sensation of being fed on mingled with the validation of her choice. He might be act out and push her away, but deep down some part of him knew, and would always know, that she should be in control.

Soon, everyone else would know that too.


End file.
